


The Times We Had

by TheWorldBookGirl



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fake Relationship, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Karen and Frank are cuties, Matt needs to get over some of his issues and apologize, Post-Season 2, Romance, foggy needs a hug, karedevil - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6375190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWorldBookGirl/pseuds/TheWorldBookGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fake relationship, a lead-up to a relationship, the breaking point of a relationship, and a companionship.</p><p>Prompts for Daredevil from anons on Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quiet Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by anon: "For the daredevil season 2 prompts - a quiet moment with Frank and Karen?"  
> My first shot at a Daredevil fic! I haven't done much writing for about two years, so please let me know how I did and where I could do better. :)

The menu in her hands felt far too heavy. It shouldn’t take so much energy to hold up a damn menu, Karen thought.

“What’d you like?” Karen’s head snapped up. The waitress stood over her looking as dull as Karen felt.

“Um...” Karen glanced back to her menu, realizing she hadn’t even read it, only stared at it. Above her, the waitress heaved a sigh. “Sorry. Uh, just coffe. Black.” She tried for a smile as she handed the menu back to the waitress. The waitress grunted and turned back to the counter. Karen slumped forward in her seat, cradling her head in her hands, elbows propped up on the table. She turned her head, staring at the passers-by and traffic outside. Despite it being the tail end of December, the sky was blue and sun shined down on the streets of Hell’s Kitchen. It shouldn’t be such a nice day. It really shouldn’t.

The waitress returned to Karen’s booth, setting down the cup of steaming black (probably watery and tasteless) coffee none too gracefully. Again, Karen tried for a smile, but whatever happened on her face was obviously not a smile, given the waitress’ stink eye.

“Alright, listen here. I don’t care how much of a hangover you have, or what shit happened that’s got you all salty, but don’t put it on me. Drink the coffee, don’t complain, and leave a tip.”

Someone slid into the booth behind Karen.

“Got that?”

“Yeah. Loud and clear.”

“Good.” Again, the waitress left, leaving Karen to her coffee. (As predicted, it was watery and tasteless.)

The person sitting at Karen’s back waved the waitress over. Why Karen wasn’t surprised when she heard his voice, she had no idea, but somehow it just made sense that he’d be there.

“Kinda a bitch. Clearly she’s got some issues.”

Karen gave an amused huff. They both had at least twice the issues any waitress in Hell’s Kitchen had. “Shouldn’t you be in hiding somewhere? Avoiding suspicion? Staying away from trouble?

“I think we both know I can’t do that.”

They sat there then, back-to-back, each sipping their cups of bland coffee, their thoughts accompanied only by the white noise of passing cars and pedestrians. Their silence was companionable, almost supportive, weaving their individual struggles together in a single shared moment. Karen wondered briefly what Frank was thinking of in those moments. Was he thinking about what had happened since he’d escaped prison? Was he thinking about what he had done? What he was going to do? Karen caught his reflection in the window as she watched the passersby. It was a surreal moment. They were unable to really speak, really see each other, yet there they were: two wandering souls in a cheap, gritty café just trying to find a goddamned grip on reality. Just trying to find some sense in the world amid all the shit– Karen pushed out the thoughts of Matt and his alterego as they began to invade her mind again.

“Why are you here, Frank?” she asked minutes later.

In the window, Karen watched his reflection settle back into his seat and shake his head. “It’s a messed up world, Karen. Really messed up.”

“You can say that again.” She sipped at her coffee, staring blankly at the seat across from her.

“I’ve been lying low. Found some work. I’ll be leaving New York for a while.”

“How long’s a while?”

“A year, two.” He called for the waitress and paid for his coffee. Karen did the same, leaving a generous tip, and again the two sat in silence together.

“Stay safe, Karen.” He stood. “And word of advice? Whatever shit’s getting to ya, don’t let it.”

Karen didn’t turn to watch him. She knew he’d have as well as disappeared into thin air. She watched the clock on the wall strike ten. She’d be late for the office. 10:02. Screw it, they weren’t paying her yet. 10:03. Would the waitress spike the coffee if I asked? At exactly 10:05 she finished her coffee.

Thanks, Frank, she thought, much too late. Good luck. I mean it.

The door clink-ed on her way out. She’d forgotten it had a bell.


	2. Appearance's sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creepers start bugging Karen one night at Josie's. Matt, ever the gentleman, stops them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon: "Matt x Karen so I'm obsessed with the fake relationships trope, so maybe pre season 2 Karen and Matt pretending to date because of creepy guys coming into Josie’s."

“Hey there.” Matt stiffened at the man’s voice. He felt Foggy tense up next to him, probably wearing a questioning expression. “You from around here?”

“Not interested.”

“Well you’re all alone here, aren’t you?”

“Please leave me alone.”

“Matt!” Foggy snapped. Matt turned his attention to Foggy, who he now realized had been trying to get his attention. “What is it?”

Matt pushed his chair back from their table and grabbed Karen’s jacket from her empty seat. “Two sleezes just came in. Assholes who work in the Barbecue place down the street. I’ll be right back.”

He tapped his cane back and forth as he made his way to the front of Josie’s, where Karen had gone to grab them some more drinks. He heard the heavier-set of the two men put his hand on Karen’s back.

“Stop it. You don’t want to mess with me.”

“Karen?” Matt called, knowing well exactly where she was. He sensed the two men turn around and purposely made sure to walk into the guy who’d been putting his hands on Karen. He heard Foggy snort and had to suppress a smirk of his own, instead putting on what he knew was a charming, slightly comfused smile.

“Who’re you?” The leaner man answered. He was taller than Matt, but not nearly as built.

“Matt!” He heard the relief in Karen’s voice. She pushed past the startled men. Matt lifted her jacket as she neared, draping it over her shoulders and putting his arm around her. She only mildly annoyed at the situation, her heartbeat only slightly faster than normal.

“Sorry, sir. I was just looking for my girlfriend here. I must have missed you with my cane,” Matt told the men. He heard their blood pumping and smelled the adrenaline that was practically pouring out of them.

The heftier of the two jutted his chin at Karen. “Thought the little lady said she didn’t have a man.”

“Maybe I just thought it was none of your business,” she replied curtly.

Matt tilted his head in consideration. “I’m sure if Karen didn’t mention me she had good reason.” Nobody was allowed to mess with Karen Page, and he hoped his unsaid threat would be conveyed in the tight-lipped smile he gave the men. Then, turning Karen back to their table, he took her elbow and leaned down to speak in her ear over the roar of the bar. “Foggy said something was happening. I hope you don’t mind.”

To his surprise, Karen laughed a little. She stopped walking and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. She smelled like strawberries, vanilla, and alcohol. “They’re still watching,” she told him, “and you aren’t acting enough like my boyfriend.” She slid her hand down to take a hold of his hand and led him back towards the table. Matt, caught between the feeling of Karen’s fingers intertwined with his own and the voices of the men who were calling Karen nasty names and making unseemly comments about her body, nearly missed the surprised noise Foggy made as they approached hand-in-hand. As they sat, Karen ordered Matt to drape his arm over the back of her chair in a murmur. He stretched his arm out, letting his hand rest on her shoulder, holding her jacket, still draped over her, to her arm. He leaned in a little, telling himself it was for appearance, not because she smelled good or because he wanted to feel the warmth of her skin.

Matt imagined Foggy was raising his eyebrows. He kicked his friend’s shin to make a point of what exactly was going on.

“Ow! Oh, uh, no drinks, Karen?”

“I think I’m done for the night.”

They chatted with each other for a couple more hours before heading home, and if Matt kept his arm around Karen and leaned in a little further even after the men had left, it was just for appearances, really.


End file.
